


When The Lights Go Out (I Miss You)

by loveoverpride



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Season 6, Resolution, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-21 15:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11947242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveoverpride/pseuds/loveoverpride
Summary: Olivia has reached her breaking point. The light is gone and she's lost without him. How is she going to make this right?Post-Season 6.Inspired by lyrics by Adele.





	1. Hello from the outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song inspiration: "hello"

Everything she wanted, she finally received. She’s now the big dog. The director. The one voice that needed to be heard. The final say.  It was all coming together. Years spent convincing, writing, taking the cross-country trips, hearing and giving the lectures. Even with the dirty deeds under her belt, she finally catapulted herself to this place in time. She was the one. As the President’s right hand, she was at her zenith. It felt good. It felt right.

But when she laid her head down, all the confidence fell away.  

Lost. Confused. Alone. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She risked everything to get here. But at what cost? Was it truly worth giving away her conscience?

The copious amounts of espresso that lived in her veins would not suffice. Emptiness was a great word to describe how she felt. Whenever she was asked, shoulders would lift and a ho-hum response followed. But there was a reason for this void.

He wasn't here. She wasn't in his arms. They weren't talking.

For weeks, she avoided any conversation about him. But she still wore the ring. There were reminders throughout the White House, including his portrait on the wall. She kept her gaze forward, as  if glancing at his painted stare would convict her of well-aware truths. 

At work, she was on. Stomping the pavements, being the boss she knew she could be. Getting shit done. But when she returned to her apartment every night, that switch turned off abruptly.

It was affecting how she viewed herself. Stubborn as she was, Olivia knew she needed to talk to him. But she didn't have his number. How embarrassing. The most powerful woman in the United States who had access to so much at the drop of a hat, didn't have a way to contact the most important person in her life.

A quick scroll down her list and she found the number that could lead her in the right direction.

“Marcus? Hi. How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” the familiar voice answered. “How are you?”

“We’re good over here. Hey, are you busy?”

“Not at the moment.”

Olivia bit her lip as she sat down at the couch. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Would you be able to forward me President Grant’s new number?”

“He never gave it to you?”

Of course, her former employee would emphasize this interesting factoid, in that fake-surprised, judgy,  _oh really_  tone.  Trying to save face, she blurted, "No, the transition went by very quickly. I haven't had a chance to follow up.”

“Sure,” Marcus commented, with a little skepticism, before relaying the digits. “That's his office line.”

After another minute of cordial dialogue, Olivia hung up, staring at the numbers she wrote down. 

There was a possibility he could answer immediately. Or he could be like everyone else, busy with work and real life. 

Taking a sip of her beloved red, Olivia tapped on her screen, slowly entering the area code, then the remaining digits.

She waited for the dialtone.

Four slow rings. 

 _Hello_ \--

The greeting was rushed. “Hi!”

_You have reached the office of Fitzgerald Grant. Please leave your name and number, with a detailed message, and I will contact you shortly. Thanks._

Disappointed, Olivia waited for the message to finish. On the bright side, it gave her relief that she had the correct number. Any kind of nerves could dissipate if she left a voicemail. Being a pro at elegant and rehearsed speeches, she vowed to state her peace and hang up.

“Hi. It's me. I know it's been a few months and it's no excuse. But I wanted to know how you were doing, seeing how Vermont life is treating you. Anyway. Call me back when you can.”

As she disconnected, she began to think. How happy they were during the last four weeks of his presidency. So much happened, but they could return to each other and shut the world out. Remembering of the days just being happy, even while they were in the shadows. But there were other areas of their relationship that made her wince. The wasted moments arguing over the dumbest shit that didn’t matter. Fights and silent treatments. Going behind each other's back. Not fighting for their love. 

An hour passed. The phone never rang.

For whatever reason, she was feeling needy, incapable of being patient. Maybe he hadn't checked the messages. Or he returned from a meeting and got busy. The courtesy she wanted from others, she wasn't giving to Fitz. He had a life too. But she needed him. 

Another round of wine and she hit redial. As before, after four rings, the voicemail started. She breathed deeply, then began to speak.

“Hi again. I didn't explain myself well the last time we talked. I know we've had our differences. There’s still a lot to be said. I was -- I am allowing my career to get in the way of us. I don’t know where to go from here. But I don't want to lose you again. If we could talk sometime, listen to each other to find out what could work. Just… call me.”

It reminded her of the times she had to use the burner, hoping that he'd call. Waiting for the phone to buzz, leading her to do the absolute most to answer. Digging in the trash, racing back inside her apartment to find the phone. Losing sleep. Interrupting other conversations. He was her all-consuming fire. The flicker of light that burned in her had blown out. 

Now that they were “free” to have a relationship, there was a tendency for implosion. Depending on the scenario, the blame could be pinpointed to a specific moment. Usually, she was at fault. She was the overthinker, the pessimist, the runner. The problem usually began or ended with her. Their relationship had flaws; unsightly bruises on the surface and deep wounds inside. The work to pull away the bandages, recognize the problems that were dormant, was overwhelming.

Why couldn’t she have something good and not let it destroy her? Through circumstances, bad influences, and fear, life with him could never be a possibility. It didn't have to end up like this. But she was still broken, unwilling to work on herself. Just masking her shame and unresolved issues, to climb walls, shatter ceilings, and break hearts in the meanwhile. 

Olivia began to seethe. He deliberately wasn't calling back. She wasn't dumb, she knew him. He was stubborn too. Why hadn't he reached out to her since January 20th? Their last conversation was painful; she tried to put on a good face.  She wouldn't have forgiven herself if she allowed him to leave while she fumed in silence and pride. When she ran to him on the South Lawn, Olivia let the world know that she was breaking her resolve of hiding, and also shedding that layer she kept on for eight long years. 

But then again, he knew her. Her mindset changed so often, he couldn't trust anything anymore. After his missteps, he worked on giving her space. They learned the hard way.

Figuring out a strategy wouldn't have been hard. But her goals were higher than any relationship. There was no normal, but they could have worked something out. The flight to Vermont only took an hour, but she was certain of their true distance; they were worlds apart.

It was a "light" day at the office; returning around 8pm was rare. So the nightly ritual of finishing a bottle and crying began early and was in full force. She needed to get to bed; there was no point to wait for him tonight.

But typical of her previous career, the phone rang at that moment when she was about to walk away.  A number she hadn't saved was popping up. Maybe it was the President, calling from a secure line, but the area code wasn't familiar either.

“Olivia Pope.”

“Hi.”


	2. I want to live and not just survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration - "Love In the Dark"

_"Hi."_

"Hi."

It didn't matter how long it had been since they talked. Olivia's heart would always swell when she heard his voice. There was something about the way he would say her name that brought relief to her soul. Butterflies rose within her again, sparking the excitement that began so many years ago.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright. Sorry for not getting back to you as soon as I wanted."

"No worries," Olivia crossed her legs on the couch, waiting for him to address her detailed and vulnerable messages.

"Good."

"So."

"So…"

Without fail, if there had been a lapse in communication, Olivia and Fitz's greetings were short, awkward, cute even. Always trying to figure out where to go next, before jumping into the heart of the matter.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Olivia wanted to be honest but her nerves were getting the best of her.

"Liv?" Fitz asked deeply. His tone suggested that he knew she had something to admit.

"I - I wanted to hear your voice."

"Yeah?"

"Silly, right?"

"Not at all. It's always good to hear from you."

"How's work?"

Fitz answered, "We're moving along. Making new contacts with the community. They have been very receptive. Marcus has been a great leader, helping us get settled and reputable. We're holding a meeting in Boston, in a few weeks, to reach out to lawyers who could help us."

"That's great."

Hearing Fitz speak enthusiastically of his new job, not being weighed down by the constant pressures and judging eyes from outside of the White House was very encouraging.

"How about you?"

"It's fine."

"Really?"

Olivia casually responded, "Yes. Busy as usual. You know how it goes."

Fitz chuckled, "Yes. Very familiar. Hey, your messages sounded very genuine to me. May I ask why?"

"I've been thinking about you. Realizing how foolish I've been. I didn't want to lose you."

"You haven't lost me."

"It feels like it."

Fitz explained, "I wanted to give you space. You know you like your space."

"Correct," she confirmed. "But it's been odd not talking to you."

"I know."

Olivia coyly suggested, "You should come down."

"Or you could always fly up here," Fitz replied. In her mind, she knew what kind of facial expression he gave - flirty, confident, and still very sweet. "It's gorgeous up here in May and it's so far from the political buzz. You could use a break and when's the last time you've been here?"

"It's not that simple."

"Hmm, ditto."

Olivia rolled her eyes; it was easy to convince him but now, not so much. "Fitz."

"Livvie," he offered, "I haven't heard from you since Inauguration Day. I gathered that you wanted a clean break. I wanted to make sure you could you do your job well, without distractions. I know how important it is to you. Yes, I could have called, but I had a new job as well. I'm finally getting settled. As much as I didn't want to leave you behind, I'm moving forward with my life. I'm finally free to do whatever I want, when I want. I don't know what else you want me to do."

"So coming to DC isn't an option?"

"I'm sorry. I won't be able to at this time."

"Okay."

Olivia sighed, quite dejected. This wasn't how she thought this conversation would go, now aware of Fitz deliberately going against her wishes, was frustrating. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. But he was his own person. He always was, but she was used to convincing him otherwise. That wasn't right; she wasn't fond of him pushing his will on her. The first time spent at the White House was a disaster beyond words. So, she had to remember not to override what he wanted.

"That doesn't mean we can't talk to each other," Fitz said. "Liv?"

"Okay."

"It doesn't seem like this. Your voice…"

Olivia cut him off, "Doesn't matter. I get it. Sorry for imposing."

"Hey," he pulled her back. "Do not shut down. What are you trying to say?"

"I miss you, okay? Is that clear enough for you?" Her voice shook with frustration.

Fitz cleared his throat. "Yes, so everything you said in your voicemail is true?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad you feel that way because I miss you so much. But to be honest, I don't know if we can make it, given our current situation."

Olivia frowned after hearing the double-edged comment, reaching for the bottle and ready to pour another glass of wine, but she didn't. She needed to have a clear mind. "What about the progress we made?"

"Was it though, Livvie? We keep going back and forth. Madly in love, blissfully ignorant of the world around us. Then a fight or someone gets in the way, and we're back to square one."

Olivia leaned forward, becoming more tense as the conversation lingered. It was taking a sharp, dark turn, and she assumed her confession would smoothly resolve things. She thought wrong, again.

"I just want you to listen to how I feel."

"I am. But I need to be honest with you as well."

It was time for that drink.

"Go on," she invited.

"What's the point of bullshitting when we have proof of our reality? Remember all the times you would shake me senseless with the truth," Fitz stated firmly. "My ass was up in the clouds, ready to skip town and my responsibilities. You told me there was no us or Vermont. We had to wake up."

"Are you giving up?"

"No."

Olivia was fuming and responded harshly. "Why are you being cold? I didn't call to be lectured or feel more shitty. I'm trying, okay?"

Fitz shouted, "Well, I'm tired of getting hurt! I don't want to do this anymore. You never liked it when I made promises you knew weren't possible to keep. But now that we're single, doing our thing, I can't have you give me hope when you could back out when it gets too difficult."

Olivia pursed her lips and closed her eyes. "Fitz, don't say that."

"Is it not true? I'm here. I'm ready. Yes, I've fucked up in so many ways and I am sorry. I also don't want to be an embarrassment to you. You said it yourself, your work has come first. I don't want to compete. I know you would say the same if the tables were turned. If this means we need to stay friends for now, so be it."

Olivia blinked away a few stray tears. "But I don't want that."

"Me neither. But we will destroy each other if we do not clear this up. I don't want to keep going through the motions, pretending that we're fine when we're not."

"I know."

"We need to know where we stand and how we can succeed. Find a balance, personally and professionally."

Olivia abruptly inquired, "Would you end it?" 

"Hmm?"

"End our relationship. If I hadn't called, would you have just stopped reaching out?"

Fitz paused. 

"The universe sure knows how to sabotage."

"You know, Olivia, it's not just you going through shit," Fitz continued, only this time softening his tone. "I deal with regret every day. We both hurt each other deeply and I am sorry for all the pain I've caused you. You didn't deserve it."

"I forgive you," she quietly spoke.

"Thank you. I forgive you too."

The words echoed in her ear; he forgave her. She didn't deserve his mercy. That was one scar she couldn't let heal by itself.

"I can't do this without you. I'm broken," Olivia barely could get the words out with the huge lump caught in her throat.

"Me too. We've changed a lot. I want you, Olivia. But these last four months have taught me that I can manage without you." 

The conversation stopped. To her, this was a nail in the coffin; there was no point to continue. Too much had happened. He was telling her that he didn't need her. She couldn't say the same. She needed him. Her world was upside down and the light he had, was dimmed, and she had no guidance. She couldn't even trust her gut anymore. 

Their decisions - big and small - that nearly spanned a decade led them to another crossroad in their relationship. The obstacles present when Fitz was in Washington, were limited. Olivia couldn't use the same excuses of time, work, her family, anymore. Neither could he. Where could they go from here?

Fitz cleared his throat, "I don't want to argue and I'm not giving up. But we have a lot to think about. Let's hang up for now. If you want to talk another time, we can do that. I'll send you my new number. Maybe you can come to the house and we can discuss our future."

Olivia was antsy, defeated by his honest answers.

"Do you want me to," she asked timidly.

"Why wouldn't I? I love you. And it's your house. I built it for you. That never changed. You're always welcomed here."

"Okay."

"Good night, Liv."

"Good night."

Olivia tossed her phone on the couch cushion, then rested her head on the pillow and went over the last hour of talking with Fitz. It was a new day; they had a honest and vulnerable conservation. For the most part, they heard each other out. It was painful at times, but no one hung up in anger. This was progress.

Most of her adult life was spent fixing messes. It was dirty, unconventional. With practice, she could smooth over any situation with ease, finding the perfect phrases to assuage the toughest customer. But the one thing she was good at, she couldn't do it for herself. More work had to be done towards mending her heart and her complicated relationship with Fitz.

Olivia did find comfort in a simple truth: hope could still prevail.


	3. I want every little piece of you.

Olivia tried her best to put her conversation with Fitz in the back of her mind, but that wasn't helpful. It took her a week to fully process everything he said. Words she didn't want to hear, but they were essential for her growth. She wasn't surprised that he was detaching, but more concerned with the honesty he gave. Along with her workload growing each day, she was too scared to call, rehash things. Fitz spoke the truth; they weren't going to have a successful life together if they weren't willing to tackle their issues. Separately and as a team. As a couple. She could finally see them this way.

They were going to fight. That was a given. It would be messy. There would be tears. Words could be hurtful. But if they were able to find common ground, there was a chance and she was ready to fight for the opportunity.

Life without Fitz would be a hard pill to swallow. As much as she tried to distance his memory, it always came back to him.

Olivia had the weekend "off" and it'd probably be the best time to fly up to Vermont. Quickly, she bought a ticket. Then, she texted Fitz.

_I'm coming up tomorrow._

A few minutes later, she received an answer.

_Great!_

Smirking, Olivia messaged with caution.

_Do you have time to visit with your favorite stubborn girl?_

The response was positive.

_Absolutely._

* * *

Thirty minutes into her drive from the airport, Olivia arrived at the property; down the long dusty road, the house came into view.

Not just any house. Their _home._  The place where they reconnected. Where she felt his love in more ways than one. So many dreams of being here - a normal life. She told him not to sell and he kept his promise.

When she parked, Olivia was able to observe all the details. The massive acreage. The open skies. Everything was so green, fresh and new. Olivia was determined to show Fitz that she was going to be different. Determined to win back his heart.

The front door swung open. Fitz was all smiles, wearing a grey-blue v-neck and jeans, as well as confidence prominent his sleeve. She couldn't resist noticing that casual, weekend wear was perfect for him.

"Hey."

"Hi," Olivia greeted, taking her carry-on out of the trunk.

"Welcome back."

"Thank you."

So much had changed. It had been four months since they stood in front of each other. Olivia noticed he showcased the same aura that she was drawn to when she joined the campaign. Before the ups and downs of presidential life. Fitz looked amazing, refreshed, youthful. Stress didn't frame his face like it had during his two terms. Seeing all this joy made her hesitant. Was she going to mess this up for him? Not knowing whether to hug him, peck his cheek, squeeze his hand. It was all or nothing when it came to affection. Curt smiles or full-on, toe-curling, tongue-tangled kisses. There was usually no in-between for them. They hadn't gone over how the protocol would be.

"Don't worry," he said, whispering. "It's okay. We're not strangers."

Olivia decided to not overthink and only do what was natural; her arms draped around his neck as Fitz lifted her petite self off the ground, swinging her around. This hug was overwhelming, comforting, and exhilarating.

"It's good to have you here."

Olivia looked into Fitz's eyes, already feeling the love he had for her. They were kind, not judgmental, as she thought.

When Fitz reluctantly let go, Olivia followed him into the house. Not much had changed since she came on that fateful night. Fitz gave her a tour, letting her see the office, along with the extra rooms that were finally completed.

"Coffee? Tea? Food? Popcorn was not on the grocery list this week."

A gentle laugh bubbled out of her. "Water and a ginger ale would do if you have any."

Fitz jogged to the second refrigerator, just full of beverages and snacks.

"There you go."

"Teddy's still coming for the summer?"

"Absolutely," Fitz smiled. "I cannot wait."

* * *

After a late lunch, Olivia opened the floor for discussion.

"Would you like to talk about what we discussed last week?"

"Sure," Fitz replied.

"What do you want to do?"

Olivia got comfortable on the sofa, waiting for his answer. Fitz leaned back in his chair.

"I think you know what I want to do, but we have to be real."

"Don't," she warned.

Ignoring her glare, he added with a smirk. "We gotta keep it real, Olivia."

"You always do that. Use slang."

"But you don't mind."

Olivia shook her head, still amused by his personality. "Hmph, back to the point. Should we still try, even with work?"

"That's on you."

"What?"

Fitz continued; "You're in D.C. and I won't be flying down until next month to get Teddy. My world is here now. You're going to be busy. I'm not even sure that you're going to follow through."

Olivia felt her eyebrows rise, taken aback by his comment. "What? I'm here now. Shouldn't that mean something?"

"But you could leave and then what? We're starting over. Are you willing to do a long-distance relationship?"

"What do you mean?" Olivia sharply asked. Hoping not to start any tension, but he was deliberately pushing the buttons she desperately wanted untouched. She had to defend herself and also protect her heart.

Fitz cleared his throat. "I'm about it. I want to make this - us - work. But I need to know that you're going to stick with this. Even when things get tough. Not if. When."

"Just give us a chance."

"You think I don't want to," he said with exasperation. "Listen to yourself, Livvie! You're full of contradictions."

"You're not?

"Wow."

Fitz mhmed. "Yeah."

"We can't have the same relationship as before."

"I agree."

"What do you want to do, Olivia Carolyn Pope?"

"I want something real. Something worth fighting for, tough."

Fitz "But we have gone through that, shouldn't we allow ourselves to a life that isn't so troublesome? Why do we have to be the ones who sacrifice our happiness?"

"You're right."

She realized that they hadn't left the living room and kitchen all day. It was getting late and she was dozing off.

"I don't want to fight."

"Me neither."

"Let's put a bookmark into this."

"Okay."

"This is good though."

"Yeah," she yawned. "I should get ready for bed."

"Where are you going?"

Olivia stopped, with suitcase in hand. "I'm going to look for a room to put my stuff in."

Fitz's nose flared, giving her a look of shock, as if she had grown two heads.

"What?"

"You were going to sleep in another room?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes. It seemed odd for him to ask that; anytime they were together, they had ever been in separate rooms. Always in the same bed, whether her room or his. But since they were in this state of limbo, she didn't want any confusion or bad habits to start up again.

"I didn't want to assume anything."

"You can say no, but you can stay in the master. There is plenty of space." Fitz paused to shift his eyes elsewhere, then returned to Olivia. "I know I wouldn't be able to sleep if I knew you were in another room."

Olivia's shoulders slumped. In a gentle voice, she asked, "That still happens?"

"Unfortunately. You've ruined me in that regard," Fitz reminded. "I've been ruined and spoiled by you."

"Okay. But no funny business."

Fitz lifted his hand, "Scout's honor."

As they prepared for bed, he asked, "You want to go out tomorrow? Maybe check out the farmers' market or a couple of the shops."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm, it's only proper for you to see what lies beyond this house."

Olivia was encouraged by the promise of a day together.

"Did you give the house a name? You know people give their land some symbolic phrase."

Fitz twisted his lips. "I did."

When he didn't reveal, Olivia nudged his arm with her elbow. "Is it a secret?

"No, but you'll laugh."

"I won't."

"Maybe later."

Olivia carefully packed three days worth of apparel, nonetheless, he offered his Navy t-shirt. Not wanting to offend, she decided to wear it, allowing his scent and the familiarity to comfort her. It was one of her favorite memories, using his clothes. A comfortable pair of sweats completed her pajamas.

There were a handful of nights when they didn't have mind-blowing sex while in the same bed. Olivia was capable of keeping her hands away, Fitz had to work harder, but it was manageable. Mostly only when she was angry. But not tonight. They were on their best behavior, staying on their own sides. Not having to call for housekeeping to wipe up shattered glass, crumpled sheets, or tossed piles of clothes was a rare feat.

Five-thirty was her normal wake-up call, so when her brain wouldn't allow her to drift back to sleep, she chose to wait and think. Thinking about them. How the day before wasn't too bad. Olivia turned on her side and watched him. His dirty blond eyelashes drooped against his ruddy skin. Ever so peaceful. The opposite of the nights when she came after hours of restlessness had kept him awake. He was right; he did sleep better when she was nearby.

Olivia sighed when Fitz's eyes fluttered open. She missed this. Her breath hitched when his eyes met hers.

"Hmm," he stretched his limbs, giving her a lazy smile. "Good morning."

"Hi."

"You sleep okay?"

"Yeah. This is a great mattress."

"I'm glad."

Olivia scrunched her nose, just thankful to be in this moment.

He was the first to rise, which gave her time to doze.

"Liv?"

Rubbing her eyes, she answered with a "Mmm?"

Fitz returned from the bathroom, only in in jeans. He must have taken an extra five minutes to comb and style his hair, which was a little longer than usual. A flurry of nerves and lust filled her; seeing him get ready for work or whatever he was doing, always turned her on. He was just being himself, a regular man, preparing for the day.

"What?"

Olivia's lips rounded into a small "O", realizing Fitz was watching her. Her thoughts were probably written over her forehead. "Nothing."

"Hmm," he shot her a knowing look, but came back to his original thought. "I have to take a call in thirty, but I'll be right out, okay?"

"No problem."

Fitz moved around, finding his watch, socks, and a shirt. "Miss Renee should be done cooking breakfast, so that will be all set for you when you come downstairs."

"Thank you."

Olivia started her trek to the bathroom, when she noticed something outside.

"You installed a pool?"

"Mmhmm," Fitz casually replied, tugging on his shirt. "About two months ago."

"Teddy swims?"

"Not yet. But you do."

Olivia's eyes widened, before turning her head towards him. Of course he would pull a stunt like this. Always doing too much to win her approval and showing her that he remembered so many details.

"Seriously?"

Walking to her as if nothing was going on between them, Fitz gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Gotta go."

* * *

_No one has me like you do, baby_

_Bring your heart, I'll bring my soul_

_But be delicate with my ego_

_I wanna step into your great unknown_

_With you and me setting the tone_

Fitz stayed true to his word. After his conference call, he took Olivia on a drive into town. She was informed of the two gas stations, the best Italian restaurant, and a quick route to the major highway that led to Burlington and points south. As they walked around, Olivia was amused by the looks she received. Maybe the residents knew who she was. Or perhaps, the glances were just friendly and supportive. It shouldn't have mattered. She didn't come here for the recognition; she was only here for him.

"We could grow berries."

"Jammmm…" she teased, exaggerating the word.

Fitz scoffed while they got out of his truck. "I'm serious. There's enough land to start. What are you going to do when you're up here, ifyou're not working?"

"Sleep. Learn to cook," Olivia pondered, with her cheeks slightly rising. "Maybe decorate a room."

"You like it here?"

Olivia glanced at him lovingly. "I do. It's nice. It's peaceful. This is great for my blood pressure."

Her heart skipped a beat when Fitz clasped their hands together. It took a while for her to recall when they held hands in public.

"Fitz?"

"Yeah, sweet baby?"

"I'm ready."

"For what?"

"For us. I want to do this."

"Okay," he answered, with excitement in his eyes.

Olivia immediately looked away, almost scared of what would come next. The planner side of her brain turned on.  "We need to lay some ground rules. Or something."

Fitz opened the sliding door that led straight to the living room. "Like what?"

"Let's promise not to shut each other out."

"Yes."

Olivia retied her hair into a neater ponytail - one of her go-to actions when she knew she was about to have a heart-to-heart. "I need to do better to communicating. So, I want to work on that with you, even if that means writing things down."

"Right."

"And if we need to take some time away, like an hour or the day to just collect our thoughts-"

"We can't go to bed angry," Fitz added. "That never worked for us."

"I think that's fair."

"I don't want to go to sleep with that vibe."

"I agree."

"It's a start."

"Absolutely."

Something was changing - completely different from their initial phone call. No uneasiness or fear. They were just talking, making plans that were logical, very normal. They weren't normal, but this was a good start.

"So, where do we go from here?"

Olivia simply replied. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever we want."

"But I want to know what you want." Olivia bit her lip. It couldn't be about her needs and wants. It was a relationship. Two people had to give and take. Not excessively give or take, depleting one's self, and leaving nothing.

"I want you. I want a life with you. Even if we have live nine hours away."

"I can do that."

"I'll...I'll start looking."

"Looking for what?"

"Therapy. A support group or something, so I can manage my anger and weird nuances."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have to be better so I can do better."

"I've been talking to someone too. Ever since I moved here. It's hard. But it makes a difference."

"I want that too."

"Liv," Fitz sighed, giving her another hug, but now feeling more intimate. 

"I don't want to put you through this again."

"You should do this for you. Forget about me."

Olivia whispered, holding tight to Fitz's waist. "But I can't lose you again."

As if an invisible director had given them a cue, an unspoken beat, their eyes met again. No one was watching. It was just them. They could proceed as quickly or slowly as they wanted. 

Fitz lowered his head as Olivia inched closer. When their lips touched, Olivia sighed so deeply. Her hand roamed to tug on his curls, Fitz lowly growled, before deepening their kiss. Their tongues reuniting, starved for each other. 

"Come with me," his voice was raspy. 

With each step to the master bedroom, the anticipation grew. They were finally turning the corner. It wasn't going to be a quick-fix of a fuck, but a culmination of finding a middle ground. Now, they were at a point where they could become physical and not use their union as a distraction. 

Olivia's adrenaline was pumping as she helped Fitz other undress. It didn't take long for him to unzip and pull away her clothes. 

"Wow," Fitz marveled as Olivia sat on the bed.

As he moved closer to her, Olivia began to rethink. 

"Fitz, should we do this?" She began to cover herself, turning away from his desiring eyes. "I don't want to fuck up." 

"Hey, I know your heart. If you're ready to make this work, I'm ready too. I can handle the good and the bad. Your good, your bad, you everything." Fitz kissed her shoulder, then returned to looking straight into her eyes. "I know how you are. You don't have to completely overhaul yourself for us to be together. We can do this."

"I believe you and I feel the same."

"What's  _the same_?"

She had to use her words, express her true feelings. Not just in familiar looks or simple phrases that covered the bases.

"I want to move forward. I want to be yours. I want you."

Fitz's hands caressed her face so quickly, she gasped. In between rushed and sloppy kisses, they continued to make declarations.

"Just...love me."

Their skin hitting the cool sheets, finding the delicate spots that stirred more than usual.

"I've missed you," he moaned, before returning his attention to kissing. 

She wasn't a talker. Only showing her affection and love in her actions. As his hands expressed gratitude all over her body, she wanted to give him whatever he needed. Emotionally. Physically. All of the things he liked, the exact angles. Saying the right words. Digging her nails into his shoulder blades. Nipping at his chin. Cupping his face. Pushing her hips back.

"Oh, Fitz."

He grunted as their hips moved deftly. Exhaling deeply with each push and thrust.

"What do you want? Where do you want me," her voice lowered to a sultry alto.

Olivia was a controller but she didn't mind with Fitz; no other man could move her the way he did. He was able to handle her.

He asked her to lie down so he could look into her eyes, see her writhe and arch. Each powerful stroke created a fire. Four months away from this man was a slow torture. Longing for what she knew.

The pace quickened. Olivia didn't care how foolish and desperate she looked, she needed him. Kissing him while he moved in and out of her, was the perfect combination of fiery and sweet. Fitz whispered things she hadn't heard in a while. Twisting to sit in his lap, rotating, and moving slowly, always got him closer.

As her hips met the deep, upward thrusts, along with the fingers that knew every part of her, she shattered. As her jaw grew lax, the strong current of her orgasm ran through. He followed, after three strong strokes, dropping his face into her neck.

Olivia wanted to cry; knowing how their souls could reignite the passion, making their love stronger. Feeling him swell. Back in his arms. Hearing his voice. It was everything. If their hearts connected, anything was possible. It was beyond the physical. 

When Fitz dipped her down to the bed, Olivia touched her cheeks; they were damp and flushed. Every time was better than before. Catching her breath, she looked at the ceiling. They were so high, certainly absorbing her shrieks and calls to God, Fitz, and  _fuck_.

Then, she began to think about what happened after this. If it meant she had to schedule monthly visits to the house, so be it. The small steps taken were substantial, but short-lived. Admitting who she was, the interviews, being photographed, living at the White House, running out to him on his last day. Those visuals meant a lot, but it didn't complete the full course of living out her love.

A few fingers brushed against her leg and stomach.

"You're so beautiful."

Fitz tenderly kissed the planes of her skin, paying special attention to any scars and moles that enhanced her beauty.

His touch made her weak - over and over again. Squeezing her legs shut, Olivia grasped his jaw, interrupting his track.

"Mmm."

"Cuddle with me."

Fitz never rejected an opportunity to bask in their afterglow. Even if it was a break before starting all over again. Smiling in between chaste kisses. Re-syncing their breathing.

"You never told me."

"About what," Fitz mumbled.

"The house," Olivia reminded, "What's the name?"

Fitz slowly lifted himself to kiss her again, then gave her an earnest look. "Hope."

The one word that kept returning to her psyche. It was the theme of their relationship.

"What? Why?"

"Because," Fitz turned on his side. "I believed that no matter what happened between us, there would always be hope for a good life. We deserve that, right? My naïveté wanted you in the picture, so maybe it was a third eye or a hunch that you'd come here. At least to visit. But if you didn't, I'd still know that you were out there."!

"Like my ring?"

"Yes, but more than that."

It was going to be a long, tough journey, but there wasn't anyone else in the world she'd rather have in her corner than her Fitz. She wanted to be at his side as well, but this time in the light. No more hiding. They could finally have the relationship they wanted, without any pressure from anyone. Including the expectations they gave themselves.

After another slow round of love-making, Olivia laid on Fitz's back, dragging her fingers through his curls. The moment was simple and luxurious. There was no rush. A symbol of their reality. 

She kissed his shoulder blade, letting her lips linger on his skin. 

"Hmm?"

"I love you," Olivia lazily smiled. The words left her mouth effortlessly, quite the contrast from all the years of stunted growth. Fitz always had something to say to express how he felt. But it always took her longer. She knew she had to tell him more often.

"I love you, Livvie."


End file.
